


Hitting the High Note

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Instruments, M/M, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Red reminisces about playing the cello, and Sans happens to walk in on his performance.





	Hitting the High Note

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrushingOnSans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushingOnSans/gifts).



> I've been reading some of CrushingOnSans' works recently, and felt inspired to write this for them. :) This is my first time writing anything like this, so please take that as you will.

Nobody outside their little “family” would have ever guessed it, but Red was somewhat of a musician. All Sanses were; Classic played the trombone, Blue was quite good at the xylophone, and even Razz had some skill with a piano. But Red… Red had always preferred the cello. Other than the obvious puns associated with it (“cello, it’s nice to meet ya” was a favorite), he loved the sound it made. The deep, rich notes that it produced as the bow glided across silver strings, moving as steadily as a ship on an ocean of sound, never failed to entrance him. He’d close his eyes, playing on with a steady hand. He would always get so enraptured by the notes that his worries and cares would ebb away, just for a time, as he concentrated on the flow of the music. 

He’d gotten the cello back when Papyrus was about nine years old. He’d been scavenging in the dump when he’d seen the poor instrument, badly scratched, but still in decent working condition. Luckily for him, the bow was nearby, and after talking with Gerson down at his shop, he was even able to procure a music book for himself. However, once Papyrus had grown up into the smug asshole he was today, Red had stopped playing. There just wasn’t enough time, and even if he could make time, the cello brought back painful memories of happier times, of Papyrus saying that he couldn’t sleep and Sans singing him a lullaby through the cello until he drifted off to dreamland.

His phalanges ghosted over the wrapped instrument as he sat on the floor of the guest bedroom, lost in his memories. Now that monsters in all four of the major universes had reached the surface and Sans had gotten his version of the kid to promise that there would be no more resets, Red had decided that pursuing his love for his laid-back, ketchup loving double was finally possible. In a moment of reprieve from the niggling fears that this would all be for naught and that Sans could never love him, Red decided to take a chance and ask him out, only to find that Sans had been struggling with many of the same worries. After about a year and a half of dating and skirting the question, Sans had finally proposed, and Red decided to leave Underfell entirely and move in with his fiancée and soulmate.

This cello was one of the things that he’d insisted upon taking with him when he’d moved. His brother had looked at it wistfully, and didn’t press the issue. Perhaps some part of him hoped that Red would take up the instrument once more some day. Looking around their bedroom, Red decided that putting other things away could wait and started unwrapping the cello. Before him, the light maple wood was slowly revealed to the setting sun, a reddish hue emanating from the instrument. He knew that Sans would be home from work soon and that it was his turn to cook dinner, but he was lost in the moment, digits almost caressing the layers of tape and paper that they’d used to preserve the instrument, seeing as he didn’t have a case for it. 

Slowly and gently, with a care that he usually only reserved for roaming his lover’s body, Red finished unwrapping the cello, and carefully inspected it. It didn’t seem to be too damaged, although the water marks that had been there since he’d first plucked it from the dump were never going to go away on their own. Closely analyzing the bass bar and spruce top, Red was glad to find that there were only a few more scratches on the cello than he remembered and that it was still in good enough condition to play. 

He sat on the bed, rifling through a box to get out the bow and lesson book. After a moment, however, he put the book back. He remembered how some of the songs went, having played them for Papyrus so many times, and his hands twitched as ghosts of songs past flowed through his memory. 

He touched the bow to the strings, taking a deep breath before suddenly looking up and rolling his eyes. He needed to tune the stupid thing, otherwise it would never work. Slowly and meticulously, he tuned the cello, turning the knobs carefully. Finally, once he was satisfied, he returned the bow to the strings, closed his eyes, and lost himself to the stream of song.

 

Sans had faintly heard music as he walked down the hall towards the apartment that he shared with his soulmate. He assumed it was coming from the speakers in the building, but upon opening the door, realized that it was coming from his bedroom. “i’m home!” Sans called, frowning when he received no answer. Was Red listening to classical music? Sans had never pegged him as a Vivaldi fan, but evidently, he’d have to revise his opinion. Sans set down his things and headed into the bedroom, stopping in his tracks as he took in the sight of his fiancée. 

Red was sitting on the bed, back straight, a cello clutched to his chest. In the dim twilight streaming through the window, Sans could see him holding the cello delicately, almost reverently as his arm moved back and forth, gliding the bow across the shimmering strings, steady as a boat on a tranquil river. The intimacy of his position was almost enviable, as Red was holding the cello like he would a lover, close but supportive, careful but unrestrained. 

All Sans could do was watch, transfixed, at Red’s motions, wishing that he were in the instrument’s place. Red’s gentle, relaxed, unguarded expression, a strong yet gentle hand massaging his ribs, his other hand rubbing his neck and spine, exploiting his most sensitive spots, playing him as skillfully as that cello and making him sing just as sweetly. His blush deepened as he thought of all the ways that those hands could make music with him, and he forced himself to swallow and just enjoy the beautiful tune permeating the apartment. The notes washed over him like a tide, drowning him in the sensation and carrying his stress away on the waves.

At that moment, Red finished the song, and looked up in surprise as Sans’ furious clapping filled the room. He blushed in embarrassment, surprised at his sudden audience. “hey sweetheart. what’re you doin’ home so early?” 

Sans raised an eye ridge, surprised. “babe, it’s 7:30. i always get home about this time.” Red glanced over at the clock to see that his fiancée was right.

“oh, sorry. i must’ve gotten carried away with this old thing…” He gestured sheepishly to the cello, before hopping off the bed and setting it down carefully on the carpet. “well, i guess i should get started on dinner then…”

He was about to walk to the door, but Sans grabbed his hands and led him back to the bed, placing him in the same position that he’d been playing the cello with. He shrugged off his hoodie and let it fall to the ground, sitting in Red’s lap with his back to Red’s sternum, and adjusted Red’s hands so that they lay approximately where he wanted. Red was trembling under him, eagerly anticipating what would come next, and Sans smirked as he whispered where Red’s ear would be.

“alright, maestro. make me [i]sing.[/i]”


End file.
